


Bite Me, Babe (It's All In You)

by clotpolesonly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, Established Relationship, Frottage, Full Moon, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22722442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clotpolesonly/pseuds/clotpolesonly
Summary: “Ow!”Scott rears back, hand flying to his mouth as Stiles reaches up to feel the teeth marks in his clavicle.“Did you just…biteme?” Stiles asks incredulously.Horrified, Scott says, “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”Stiles paws at his collarbone again, but there’s no blood or anything. Just a sting that actually isn’t all that unpleasant. When he presses down on the spot, it aches just a little. That’s not unpleasant either.
Relationships: Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 18
Kudos: 379





	Bite Me, Babe (It's All In You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luulapants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luulapants/gifts).



> my first Sciles fic!!! another rare pair to go on my growing list, hahaha, and also a rare smut fic! thanks to joohlia for the prompt <3

They don’t usually do this on full moon nights. Sometimes Derek will drag Scott out for a run through the preserve, sometimes Scott will stay with Liam to make sure he keeps himself under control, sometimes he stays home and locks his door just in case. But they never do _this._

Scott doesn’t trust himself, is the thing, which Stiles thinks is ridiculous. It’s been a long time since control has been an issue for Scott, but there are some things he won’t take chances with and Stiles’ safety is one of them. Stiles can’t even be mad about that, no matter how deprived he feels when he gets cockblocked by the lunar cycle, because it’s _sweet_ that Scott is so concerned for him.

All that concern is also, apparently— _blessedly_ —forgotten for the moment. Stiles would ask what’s got Scott frisky enough to forget his self-imposed moratorium on full moon make-outs, but he doesn’t want to draw attention to it in case that makes Scott stop.

Boy, does he _not_ want Scott to stop.

Their kisses are slick and deep, Scott’s body a wall of heat pinning him down to the bed, his thigh an insistent presence between Stiles’ legs. The moon is shining in through the open window, but neither of them pay it any attention. Scott is too focused now on sucking a line of hickeys down Stiles’ neck that his father will side-eye him for in the morning, not that Stiles cares. It’s all delicious suction sending shivers down his spine and directly into his dick until—

“ _Ow!_ ”

Scott rears back, hand flying to his mouth as Stiles reaches up to feel the teeth marks in his clavicle.

“Did you just… _bite_ me?” Stiles asks incredulously.

Horrified, Scott says, “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Stiles paws at his collarbone again, but there’s no blood or anything. Just a sting that actually isn’t all that unpleasant. When he presses down on the spot, it aches just a little. That’s not unpleasant either.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Scott is saying, muffled through the hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Stiles pushes himself up on an elbow, rubbing at Scott’s thigh with his free hand. “Dude, it’s okay. No big deal.”

Scott just looks more distressed. “See, this is why we shouldn’t do this when the moon is up! I _told_ you it makes me crazy, and I can’t—”

“Does it, though?”

Scott stops and frowns. “Does it what?”

“Does it make you crazy?” Stiles asks, hand sliding further up Scott’s thigh. “Or does it just make you…uninhibited?”

Scott’s breath hitches when Stiles’ hand finds its target. His hard-on is straining the tight fabric of his jeans, in no way deterred by the interruption to their light frottage. It’s hot and inviting against Stiles’ palm, but Scott hisses and grabs his wrist.

“No,” he tries to insist. “No, I don’t— Of course I don’t _want_ to—”

Stiles grudgingly abandons his comfortable sprawl to hoist himself upright, wrapping his arms around Scott to keep him from bolting like he kinda looks like he wants to. For all that Scott is more than strong enough to break out of any hold Stiles could ever have him in, he just whines a little bit and grips Stiles’ shoulders like a lifeline.

“Scott, babe,” Stiles says, very seriously. “Bite me.”

“ _What?_ ”

“You heard me!”

Scott squirms on Stiles’ lap, which he is not about to complain about. His teeth sink into the meat of his bottom lip and Stiles wishes they’d left the lights on so he could see the way it flushes a darker pink when he releases it.

“You want me to—” Scott trails off, but his eyes dart down to where Stiles’ t-shirt is still pulled askew, baring half his shoulder. Stiles is sure the skin there is already littered with bruises. He doesn’t know if the teeth marks are as visible as the hickeys, but he itches to find a mirror and check. He hopes they are.

“Do _you?_ ”

He doesn’t miss the way Scott hesitates, or the nervous way his hands clench and unclench in the fabric of Stiles’ shirt. It takes him two tries to produce words.

“I don’t know,” Scott finally mutters. “I don’t know how much of it is _me_ and how much is…”

He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to.

Stiles cups Scott’s face, tugging it back up until Scott looks him in the eye again.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this,” he says softly. “It’s _all_ you, okay? It’s a part of you. And you know I love every part of you.”

Scott’s eyes slide sideways, in the direction of the window and the moonlight spilling through it, but Stiles doesn’t let him turn to look. Scott huffs.

“Even if it means that I—?"

“Even if _anything._ ”

Stiles tugs Scott down for a kiss. Scott melts into it gratefully, the tension leeching out of his muscles until he’s loose and pliable in Stiles’ arms. All it takes is Stiles’ hand drifting down to the generous curve of Scott’s ass to bring the heat back. Scott hums into Stiles’ mouth, thighs tensing as he grinds down. Where he is, Stiles doesn’t have the leverage to push up against him, but the smooth roll of Scott’s body is too good for him to complain.

When they finally break apart for much needed air, Stiles nips at Scott’s lower lip and says, “So? Are you gonna bite me or what?”

Scott’s moan goes straight to Stiles’ dick. It’s the deep, rumbly kind that it usually takes copious amounts of merciless teasing to wring out of him. The kind he only gets right before Scott snaps.

He’s not surprised when Scott shoves him back down on the bed and pins him by the wrists. The way Scott buries his face in Stiles’ neck is a little more wolf-like than usual, but, hey, the moon is full.

What Stiles _is_ surprised by is just how hard it is not to come on the spot when Scott sinks his teeth into the meat of Stiles’ shoulder. It _hurts,_ way more than the little nip from earlier, but something about the sharp burn of it rushes through him like an electric shock and it has his cock throbbing against his zipper in an instant. Or maybe it’s the helpless, awed noise that Scott makes, tucked up against the underside of Stiles’ jaw. That’s pretty fucking hot too.

It takes a few tugs for Scott to release one of Stiles’ wrists, but as soon as he has, Stiles fumbles to free himself from his jeans. They only get shoved down around his thighs, but that’s plenty because Scott is doing the same and they’re sliding together, hot and slick with pre-cum.

Scott nuzzles around to the other side of Stiles’ neck and bites down again. Stiles cries out, hips jerking and grip going slack and uncoordinated. Scott growls, low and dangerous in his throat, and takes over. His fist barely wraps around the both of them, but that doesn’t stop him from jerking them both off as he laps at the marks left on Stiles’ skin. His tongue is searing hot, his touch rough and fast, and when he seals his lips around the sore flesh and sucks, Stiles is _gone._

He spills between them with a noise he doesn’t even recognize from himself, something high pitched and needy. Come stripes Stiles’ t-shirt and drips over Scott’s fist, and Scott curses. The words come out slurred around a hint of fang and Stiles is suddenly _convinced_ that he came too soon.

The thought is there and gone, because Scott is snuffling against Stiles’ neck, growling non-stop now as he strips his cock in a blur until, finally, he seizes up and adds his own release to the mess they’ve made of Stiles’ shirt.

They stay where they are, trembling and panting, until their breath returns to them. The moonlight is starting to creep its way across the bed by the time Scott tilts sideways to collapse on the bed beside Stiles. It’s another minute or so before he turns his head, eyeing Stiles with concern.

“Are you okay?”

Stiles has to laugh. It sounds a little drunk. “Dude, I am so okay.”

“Are you sure? It really looks like it hurts.”

Scott brushes a finger along one of the bite marks. Even that light touch makes Stiles shudder all over. Stiles is _not_ ready for round two yet, but he rolls over and kisses Scott soundly anyway.

“I’m fine,” he says, tone leaving no room for argument or doubt. “In case you didn’t notice, I liked it. Like, a lot. And so did you.”

Scott looks like he wants to deny it, but only for a second. Then his expression collapses into something only a little bit pained. “Yeah,” he admits. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good.” Stiles kisses him again, lingering. “Because I’m gonna want you to do it again.”

Scott’s face brightens. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

In one smooth, werewolf-graceful movement, Scott flips them. He kisses Stiles until he’s gasping with it and says, “Next full moon.”

**Author's Note:**

> [rebloggable on tumblr!](https://clotpolesonly.tumblr.com/post/190828536461/20-sciles)


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